


Faultline

by Galysh_Sky



Series: Gate 7 Soulmate AU [2]
Category: Gate 7
Genre: Female pronouns for Hana, Gen, M/M, Third person pronouns for Hana, soulmate!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:57:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17164100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galysh_Sky/pseuds/Galysh_Sky
Summary: Gate 7 Drabble





	Faultline

**Author's Note:**

> Gate 7 Drabble

                 Soul bonds were a funny thing. They never manifested the same way twice. Some people could communicate with writings on their skin, others left their colors everywhere, others still felt their bonded’s emotions. Chikahito knew this, much in the same way he could rattle off historical facts. Back when he’d been little, he’d hoped that if he was smart enough and cool enough, people would overlook the fact that he had none of those. He’d learned that that was not the case, that that would never be the case far too late to make a difference in his behavior. So, he rattled off facts left and right even when it drew irritated looks from Tachibana, and kept reading.

                He was doing that now, nestled amongst a nest of cushions with Hana curled up near his arm when he heard an alarmed cry and looked up to see Tachibana bent over and clutching his wrist. Hana was over by the solar clansmen’s side before Chikahito could make it to his feet. Tachibana was cussing lowly, even as he gently pushed Hana away and turned towards the front entrance.

                “What’s going on?” Chikahito asked as he followed, but the door was already slamming shut behind the university student. Chika hastened to pull on his sneakers and grab Hana’s jacket before following, his small friend keeping pace easily. They spotted Tachibana at the end of the street, but he was racing away at a flat out run so they had no choice but to keep after him. Hana sped up and soon outpaced him, one of her small hands wrapped around Chika’s wrist occasionally giving a demanding tug. So, he focused on her bright jacket and did his best not to trip as they took sharp turns and dodged innocent pedestrians. When Hana finally came to a halt it was at the foot of a large glass building towering several dozens of stories up into the sky. The sun seemed to beam down on them, much harsher than Chika remembered it being when he’d left school a few hours earlier.

                There was a Tachibana sized hole in the glass doors, and the edges still dripped molten glass. It was towards these doors and the crowds of panicking onlookers that Hana pulled him, Chika hastily pulled up her hood, so she at least would not be recognizable on camera but followed willingly. Hana hopped through the hole gracefully, leaving Chika to pick his way through with no small amount of trepidation. It was even hotter on the other side, the air seeming to shimmer, and Hana’s shape was blurring before his very eyes.

                “Hana…”

                The girl turned and came back towards him, she lifted a hand and gently traced around his eyes and mouth with one delicate finger. Breathing became much easier and his sight cleared significantly.

“Thanks,” Chikahito said.

             Hana nodded and led the way again, past the ornate staircase, and around to a hallway half obstructed by bodies. In one of the last rooms of the hall, they found Tachibana crouched over a prone body his aura rising in dark flames. Hana darted forwards but Chika hesitated to look around for more opponents, or whomever could have left those giant claw marks on the wall. When nothing jumped out at them he made his way over, keeping a wary distance from Tachibana as the flames had not disappeared. Hana had knelt in the rubble, a white light emitting from her hands as she held them above Sakura’s head. Even from several steps away, Chika could see the blood stains. Tachibana remained crouched as well, the expression on his face far past murderous, as he pressed his shirt into what looked like a bloody gash.

                It’s moments like these where Chika wished that he had some sort of skill outside of being a history buff, anything that would give him the ability to help his friends. He shrugged out of his sweatshirt, pulled off his t-shirt, took a breath and stepped forwards.

               “Tachibana?”

              The dark-haired man’s eyes flicked to him, but that was it. Chika edged closer anyway and crouched to bring his relatively clean t-shirt into view. “Should I call the hospital or Master Hidegestu?” 

              “Call Tora, we’ll take him home as soon as he’s conscious,” Tachibana replied. He peeled the cloth away from Sakura’s chest, revealing that the gash had intersected with an older scar, and replaced it with the t-shirt. The green cloth immediately started darkening. Without thinking Chikahito reached out to wipe away some of the blood spillage. Tachibana’s hand struck out quick as a snake before he could touch the skin.

               “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean,” Chika started, shrinking back under Tachibana’s glare.

                 “Call Tora.”

               “Right, Right! I’m going!” Chikahito scrambled up and left the room, Hana remained long enough to cast a concerned look at Sakura before following.

***

 

          Once the kids had left, Tachibana released a long breath and sat back on his heels. He wiped his hands on his jeans, not that did them much good before leaning forwards and framing his idiot’s face. Hana had done some good earlier, but their talents did not lie with the healing arts. Not that his were much better. Tachibana let his eyes slip closed as he sunk down into that calm space he maintained at the back of his mind. The place where he put all his happiest and soothing memories. It was from this well of strength that he drew his healing potential. Under his fingers he could feel Sakura’s brow furrow, could sense every minute twitch of his skin. Pain flickered through his mark, a distant sensation that steadily grew stronger the closer Sakura came to surfacing.

         Tachibana sunk further into himself trying to coax the torn muscle to reform and the blood flow to lessen. A pained whine reached his ears just as he thought he could spare no more energy, his aura had receded back under his skin leaving him felling hollowed out. He sat back, moving off his partner’s legs and waited as Sakura’s eyelashes fluttered and another pained sound made its way out of his throat. Tachibana waited and watched until Sakura regained consciousness and instinctively shifted towards the nearest warmth, turning his face towards him when his body didn’t respond according to his wishes. Pale purple eyes fixated on him and Tachibana allowed a small smile to grace his face.

          “Hey, idiot,” he murmured, Sakura blinked at him and mumbled an answering greeting, his gaze flitted around eyes confused and lost. “It’s alright, just breath.” Sakura’s eyes focused on him, little pants escaping from his parted lips and blood bubbled up and out. Tachibana wiped the droplets away with careful fingers, allowing them to curve around his friend’s cheek. He took a moment to organize his thoughts, martializing his questions in order of importance but before he could speak the free-loader came charging back in. He stumbled up besides them, panting and chocking out words that made little sense. Tora leapt off his shoulder, pausing only to nuzzle Sakura’s cheek before she took her larger size.

           “You gonna give me a lift home?” Sakura asked, and Tachibana snapped an automatic ‘shut up’ in his direction. Tora rumbled quietly, she crouched down and with a surprising amount of gentleness sunk her teeth into the back of Sakura’s shirt. A moment later the two were gone. Tachibana stood up hastily, in the distance the sirens were growing louder, and they couldn’t afford to be caught here.

          “What happened?’ The freeloader asked, as the three made a swift exit.

          “Idiot got ambushed,” Tachibana said shortly, “don’t know by who, but I will find out.” He ignored any subsequent questions, his mind torn between concern over his partner and figuring out who would have dared attack them on their own home turf. He hadn’t missed the bestial marks on the walls, or the gash across Sakura’s stomach, whomever had been fighting an Oni had been involved.


End file.
